


you say i'm a god

by orphan_account



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Hurt No Comfort, No Beta, Panic Attacks, Self-Esteem Issues, Song fic, ghosteman - i duckinf hatw you, lowercase intended, not edited, purposefully ooc, this is for the persona not the real person, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26846236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: you say i'm a god,but i know i'm not,why do i feel like n o t h i n g
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46





	you say i'm a god

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this as a venty thing? since my current hyperfix is the dreamsmp, i wrote this w dreams character in mind, not the person !! if u enjoyed my tumblr is @technoblading lol

he scrolled through twitter mindlessly. 

_i’ll be blunt,_

he was laying against the floor, his shoulder planted firmly on the ground. he was ever-so-slightly curled up, a extra large hoodie adorning his body, and his room was very obviously messy; just from behind his phone, he could see at least 10 random shirts — usually, it’d never be dirty in the first place, but he’s been on his charging phone for... he checked the time. a week _._ he hasn’t done anything other than lay on his floor & mess around on his phone for a whole _week_.

_i’m a time bomb_

he’s checked in on his friends, of course. he’d make sure to talk to them, send him memes, do whatever. he wasn’t a heathen. he wanted to make sure they were okay, even if he wasn't. even if he lied directly to their faces when they had asked him if _he_ was okay. they had gotten so much more worried over _him_ than they were over their other, far more important friends. he didn't... he didn't like it.

_tick!_

and then he saw the — the succession of tweets, all of them addressing him directly, praising him for existing. the guy who was sitting on the floor, ignoring his cat and responsibilities and the world and his millions and millions of followers just waiting for new content, their hands so obviously outstretched and pristine and 

_tick!_

it was dumb. he _knew_ it was dumb. he knew it stupid that this was getting to him. today was just a bad day. he wasn’t feeling... well. he knew he wasn’t feeling well, and he decided to cope with that via the internet. he didn’t think it’d come back to bite him. he thought it’d be fine, y’know? maybe these kind of tweets would help him.

_tick!_

all it did was serve as a constant reminder that he didn’t deserve it. that he didn’t deserve the praise he got. that he _knew_ he didn’t, and that was the worst part. he needed to know everything. he needed to be knowledgeable on any topic that may come up, and that included himself. he guessed he got what he wanted. what he _actually_ deserved.

_they say i’m a god, but i know i’m not_

now he knows too much. he knows that he doesn’t deserve the praise. the fame. the people. he didn’t deserve his — his friends. he didn’t deserve anything other than what he had already given himself. he was shaking. his head started throbbing. his phone fell on to the ground. he curled further in on himself, covering his own head with his hands. all he could think was _no, no, no, no, NO, NO, NO NO_ **_NO NO NO NO it wont stop HURTING it wont stop SHOUTING IT WONT STOP IT WONT STOP IT WONT STOP_ **

_why do i feel like nothing_


End file.
